Month: October 2024

Blantant Age Discrimnation

Ever since I’ve joined the ranks of the 70-somethings, I’ve noticed people speak louder, slower, and more simply to me. Okay, I can deal with that. But what I can’t deal with is what happened to my dearest friend.

My friend is in her late 70s, sharp as a tack, and has been working full-time for a company that boasts its commitment to employees and customers. It is, in fact, a health-care-based company. Ha!

So, my friend has been there for almost 2 years and was happily working away while saving money to pay off a few things before she retired in another year. Not!

On a Thursday, she was in the midst of a Zoom meeting when she got a phone call. She told the caller she was in a meeting, and the caller told her to leave immediately. The caller then told her this was her last day and that she was to pack up her computer, which would be picked up the next day, as she worked from home.

Boom! Slam-bang-thank-you-mam! The reason? Cutbacks. Right.

BTW, her boss, a fifty-something black woman, was also let go. My friend was told she’d be paid through November, but then on to the unemployment lines.

There is so much about this that reeks of all bad corporate things. (I have never been a corporate type and have had my own issues in the past, but never in my 70s when I planned the short rest of my life around my job.)

So, how is my friend coping if I’m in shock and incensed over this? She’s alive, not necessarily well, but as a child of the 50s and 60s, she will survive, at least I sure as hell hope so.

But what can she do? The sad fact is — nothing. To hire a lawyer, if even possible, would be exhausting, not to mention cost prohibitive, and the corporation would through their endless resources at any legal action she might bring. It’s possible she might get some sort of payout, but that’s also unlikely. Sadly, this is an outrageous example of how we treat people today. Especially our elders.

View From the 70th Floor

A captivating view of modern skyscrapers reaching towards a clear blue sky, symbolizing a vibrant and dynamic life.

Okay. It’s time. I’ve been hard-pressed to “come out” in announcing my entry into true senior-hood, but now that my high school class is planning a big bash for all of us turning 70-ers, I decided it was time to emerge from my closely guarded age closet.

When I was a kid, most people my age now acted old. They looked old. They sat on their front porches drinking tea, or maybe something more potent. They knitted, they played checkers, they napped. Not that any of these things are bad, it’s just that the people doing them back then acted … old!

I do not consider myself old. I do not sit on my front porch all day, don’t complain about my aches and pains (not much, anyway), and don’t look especially old, minus a few wrinkles here and there. I don’t feel any different than when I was 50, 40, and even 30, (in my head, that is).

So, as I share my view from the 70th floor looking down, I savor the sight of delicacies of lovely memories while avoiding a sea of woulda, coulda, shouldas. I have turned my experiences — good and bad — into precious learning devices, while flushing all the gunky stuff away. What a gift … what a life …

The view looking up is full and robust, filled with my beloved humans, canines, and activities: swimming, reading, writing, friends, and playing with dogs and grandkids. Eating my partner’s gourmet meals. Drinking dark, chocolatey wines. Biking through a canopy of lush summer trees. Hiking on trails full of fall color and the musty smell of fallen leaves.

When my body decides I’ve had enough, I’ll take my swimming easier, finish writing the novel that’s been in the works for 20 years, and cuddle with my dogs while reading a good book in front of the fireplace on a snowy winter’s night.

And when that winter’s night decides to become more permanent, I’ll leave with a smile, knowing how much I enjoyed the views, both up and down, from the 70th floor.